


The Lake Air

by mothdotjpeg



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: (slight) - Freeform, Blood and Gore, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Post-Fall (Hannibal), They live in a cabin its soft ok, idk how else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg
Summary: Will and Hannibal find themselves in a cabin on a lake with two dogs, Will reflects. They're happy.|| The lake air left a constant chill in red and rosy cheeks, it was comforting in a way Will hadn’t been comforted in so long. Cuba had been nice. Hot days, warmer nights, memories. So many memories. He had forgotten so much from their months there, that’s why he tried to be better at noticing now. Noticing the lake air, how it tasted, how Hannibal would move his mouth when the wind hit his face. As if he was tasting the fucking air. The air.“Am I interrupting something?” Will wasn’t fishing today. Normally if he did, he invited his housemate. His cabin buddy. His…  ||
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	The Lake Air

**Author's Note:**

> This is a real soft pointless one but hey, sometimes you gotta write about gay cannibals in your grandparents' lake house to feel joy. Hope you enjoy :)

The lake air left a constant chill in red and rosy cheeks, it was comforting in a way Will hadn’t been comforted in so long. Cuba had been nice. Hot days, warmer nights, memories. So many memories. He had forgotten so much from their months there, that’s why he tried to be better at noticing now. Noticing the lake air, how it tasted, how Hannibal would move his mouth when the wind hit his face. As if he was tasting the fucking air. The air. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Will wasn’t fishing today. Normally if he did, he invited his housemate. His cabin buddy. His… 

“Oh, no.” Blue eyes blinking up to meet maroon ones, smiling down at him. After months of seeing Hannibal half-dressed and sweating, it was oddly domestic to see the man in zip-ups and full-length pants. “Join me?” It was easy to talk to him, invite him to the dock. To the cold water that felt chilly although they hadn’t jumped in- Will was sure it’d be chilly in the summer too. He hoped. Hannibal grinned that toothy jagged grin and lowered himself onto the dock. Not minding the cold wood or the melting frost from the night before- Hannibal didn’t mind things anymore. Will liked that he had an impact on the man. They sat, looking at the slight waves of the lake. It was so peaceful. Less stress of sunscreen and FBI and rich tourists who insisted on chit-chat at the pool. This was a goddamn vacation from their vacation. But this wasn’t a few months in-between places, this wasn’t hotel toiletries and travel-sized toothpaste. This was it. 

“Thinking?” Hannibal wasn’t watching the waves anymore, just the calm look on Will’s face as he thought. There wasn’t pressure, or stress, or anxiety. It was just them. With no one else. And it was perfect. Will’s stomach rumbled, he was cold.

“Yeah,” It was absentminded, he had barely heard Hannibal. He shivered, wrapping his arms around his knees as he stared at the water. It would ice over, he wondered if the old cabin had ice skates somewhere. 

“You look cold,” His body moved closer, protecting Will from a distance. It was warm, Will wanted to reach out and touch him. But he stared at the waves instead, admiring the grey clouds and the murky lake water. “Come inside?” Hannibal asked a bit harder, breaking Will’s thoughts. He shook his head, meeting Hannibal’s gaze as his eyes un-glossed over. 

“Yeah, of course. One more minute.” Back at the trees across the lake, the small island that some herons called home. It was peaceful. Hannibal got up, creakily, and ruffed Will’s hair without thinking, turning back to go inside. 

“I’ll feed the dogs.” Will smiled as he felt Hannibal move away. Dogs. A cabin, a creaky old place that smelled like the 80s and old posters and secrets. It was on a hill, a million stairs, and a shitty road that didn’t have great parking, and their house. The one that felt so small and big and so old and so new. They’d only been there for a month, so much was left undiscovered. Under the deck, in the forest around them, across the lake. He wanted to go across the lake. 

“Why did we pick the house will a fucking million stairs?” Will fell into a dining room chair and looked at the ceiling -out of breath. Dirty shoes on the doormat by the door, the door propped open to let the lake air in. Leather chairs, a breaking dining room table. And a man, one who was so polished and nice, with his sleeves rolled up, arms covered in blood. 

“So we can stay in shape,” Hannibal hummed as he sliced the thick skin off the animal. It was deer Will had found on his first venture around the lake- he made it ten minutes and then lugged the deer back. Spent days researching how to preserve the head, that project lasted three whole nights until he had it mounted on their wall. Hannibal said it was distasteful, he had taken Will’s dirty hand in his and kissed his knuckles. 

“I think you’re just trying to kill me.” Will retorted, heart calming in his chest as the comfort of the animal blood stained the old table. It was familiar, just like the strength of Hannibal’s cutting hands. 

“I could’ve done that long ago.” Their two dogs lay under the table, chewing some bones Will had cleaned for them. He could care less for the meat from the deer, food was food, but it was some type of symbol. The animal, dead, laying on the side of the road. It hadn’t struggled, it’s black eyes were glossy, Will didn’t flinch. Didn’t remember the past. Now the alters would mean here, this house, not Minnesota. 

“How romantic.” Will laughed as he rolled off the chair onto the floor to lay next to his dogs. The oven made the kitchen warm, it was cramped and comfortable, but Will still shivered in his skin as Baltimore licked his nose. “There’s a bone to chew on, not my face,” Will muttered as he stroked her brown forehead, soft and young. Only 6 months old when she showed up on their doorstep, begging for food. Of course, Wolftrap followed a few days later, wearily looking at Hannibal as Will swaddled Baltimore in blankets. They looked like the men, brown curly hair and young- she was a mutt but Will had insisted she was a part spaniel- meanwhile, Wolftrap was grey and wiry and had the face of a German-Wire Haired Terrier. Hannibal shook his head like Wolftrap did, Will and Baltimore just smiled back. They made a great team. 

“What was that, dear?” It was funny to hear the man use pet-names for someone he had tried to kill many times. Will laughed as he scratched Wolftrap’s chin. 

“Talking to the dogs,” He already knew what Hannibal would say before he spoke. It was nice to know. Know the dogs and know the man who sat on the floor next to him after the clang of the oven door closing. 

“You talk to the dogs more than you talk to me.” His zip-up had been abandoned and his simple cotton shirt sleeves were rolled up his arms, showing how much strength he had regained since the fall. The blood had been washed off, he leaned against the cabinets looking at Will. Will, the scruffy man who laid on the floor next to his wolfpack. He had had this once before, with boat motors and a son and way more dogs. And an empty spot in his heart. Hannibal’s great hair was fluffy, grown out from the prison-cut (Will hadn’t minded it that short), and it was always slightly in his face. Those lips that stuck out, begging to be given attention. Jagged teeth and sharp features, there was nothing about his partner he would replace. Even the gunshot wound in his stomach, even the hands that killed. Especially the hands that killed. 

“You’re so hot,” Will said, look away from Hannibal’s relaxed slouch to the underside of the table. He heard Hannibal’s soft chuckle, felt it in the floorboards and in the tickle down his back. When he looked back, Hannibal was watching him. A look in his eyes that Will couldn’t quite place- it seemed familiar. Oh. 

Changing out of prison clothes. Cold showers in Cuba. Falling into bed exhausted. 

“Please kiss me,” Will got out before sitting up, almost banging his head on the table, but ducking forward to pin Hannibal against the cabinets. His body shook with laughter as he leaned forward and pecked Will’s lips. “Better than that,” He curled into Hannibal’s body, grabbing his face and pressing closer. Hannibal’s eyes glittered as he leaned in again, attacking Will’s mouth this time. It was warm, it was salty, Hannibal tasted like blood. They kissed, for the first time since they settled into the house. Hands in hair and on waists and bodies warm. When Will’s breathe was gone he pulled Hannibal onto the floor next to him. It felt like lake air. 

“Look,” He pointed at the underside of the table, Hannibal settling onto the hardwood floor next to Wolftrap and his pool of drool. But he didn’t care- Will couldn’t get over how he didn’t care anymore.

“ _ ‘H & W’ _ ?” Hannibal puzzled as Will watched his profile, the curve of his lips and faint blush on his cheeks. Only Will made him get ruffled and red. Will laughed a lucky coincidence. This was meant to be, the house was already engraved as if this place was gift-wrapped for two criminally insane lovers. 

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” Will said to the lake air. Hannibal met his watchful gaze, eyes still sparkling. 

“You could’ve asked to make-out in the kitchen sooner, Will.” Who knew a serial killer could make jokes? Will kicked him slightly and looked back up at the newly found letters in the wood. 

“You know what I mean.” Hannibal entangled his fingers with Will’s, smiling at the table and the dogs and the man he was able to keep. 

“The lake air.” 

“The lake air.” 


End file.
